


Only Flesh and Bone

by NPennyworth



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Awesome Wanda Maximoff, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Canon-Typical Violence, Everyone Needs A Hug, For just the Maximoff twins, Gen, Maximoff Twin Feels, Mind Control, Not Canon Compliant, Pietro Maximoff Needs a Hug, Sokovia, Tags May Change, Wanda Maximoff Needs a Hug, i'm very pleased that's a tag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-02-17 07:43:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13072314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NPennyworth/pseuds/NPennyworth
Summary: When the man offers them power, Wanda and Pietro say no. This is what happens after.





	1. Choices

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [MaximoffFicExchange2017](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/MaximoffFicExchange2017) collection. 



> Filling a prompt for a depowered Maximoff AU of Age of Ultron for the Maximoff Fic Exchange 2017.  
> As this turned out a lot more complicated than I thought this is a series, so we'll try for biweekly updates. Enjoy!

The man has been watching them for two weeks, but this is the first time he has approached them. Wanda does most of the talking, with Pietro looming behind her and undoubtedly glaring at the man. Wanda does not like him either, with his too shiny shoes and reflective glasses, and an accent she has a hard time placing. But she has the common sense to hear him out before hating him.

“We can give you power,” the man says. “We will help you get revenge on the people who did this to you.” The man gestures at the alleyway that he found them in, the beat up backpacks that hold all of their belongings and their clothing, heavily wrinkled from sleeping outdoors. He does not need to say what has been done to them; it is obvious to any who look.

“The person,” Pietro says. “Tony Stark. Will you give us enough power to kill him?” Wanda gives him a sharp look but the man only laughs.

“Enough power to kill him a dozen times over,” he says, and somehow his attitude is more disturbing. He seems almost eager to see them murder Stark, and something in the back of Wanda’s mind whispers  _ you would not be safe with the likes of him, you would be a weapon they would unleash on the world. _

“I understand that this is a lot to think about,” the man says. “I can give you a few moments to think about it.” Wanda feels like her mind is stretched out like taffy, trapped between the two results of this decision. She and Pietro have sworn to do anything to avenge their parents, but this does not feel right. Wanda knows that this is a decision not to be taken lightly, a decision that might shape their entire life.

“Thank you,” Wanda says to him, and she walks with Pietro a little ways down the alley before switching into their native Serbian, still keeping their voices lowered to whispers just in case.

“We should go with him,” Pietro says. “He says that he will give us power, to kill Stark.”

“Yes, but I don’t think that we should,” Wanda says, and Pietro frowns.

“Wanda, he is offering us the opportunity we have dreamed about for years,” he said. “I know that he’s not what he seems, but neither are we. Once they give us this power, who would be able to stop us?”

“Pietro, this is dangerous,” Wanda argues. “And this feels… wrong. We can find another way; we shouldn’t go with him.”

“How could we find another way?” Pietro asks, his voice getting louder. “What do we have here?” He gestures, indicating the alleyway and their scant possessions, few and nearly worthless. Threadbare clothes, a few coins they’ve begged for or stolen. Not enough.

“We have each other,” Wanda hisses, grabbing her brother’s arm. “Pietro, I do not want to lose you.”  _ You are all that I have left.  _ She didn’t need to say it, because she knows that Pietro feels the same way.

“You cannot lose me,” he says, trying for casual frivolity but failing, although that might be only because Wanda knows him so well, knows that he is scared as well. “I’m not going to leave you.”

“You might not have a choice,” Wanda says. “And if we go with that man, you will have no choice at all.” He stares at her for a long moment and she doesn’t waver, and finally he tips his head to her in defeat.

“We will do whatever you decide,” he tells her, and Wanda nods.

“Be ready to run.” They don’t know if the man will take their refusal well.

“Have you thought about it?” the man asks when they walk back to him, and Pietro picks up their backpacks and swings them over his shoulder.

“Yes, and we must say no,” Wanda says.

“Ah,” says the man. “How… disappointing. You know that you may not receive another offer like this?”

“We know,” says Pietro. “The answer is still no.” The man studies them for a moment and Wanda tenses, wondering if he will take them by force.

He must have decided that they’re not worth the attention, because the man tips his hat to her and walks away, down the street until he dissolves into the crowd.

“We might regret that,” Pietro tells her as they watch him walk away, and Wanda shrugs.

“We would have regretted whatever decision we made,” she said. “Let’s find somewhere else to sleep tonight.”

* * *

 

Wanda has taught herself magic. She makes coins disappear and reappear, causes cloth to ripple around objects and vanish them. She plays a guessing game with three bowls and a golden stone, and nobody can ever guess the correct bowl unless if she lets them. She only lets them win if she knows they’ll play a second round.

Half of their money comes from her performances, from coins dropped in her bag or handed over for a chance at the guessing game. The other half of their money comes from Pietro, who weaves through the crowd she draws and pulls coins from pockets and bills from purses. Sometimes they see him walking away with their money and try to catch him, but nobody can ever catch Pietro. He is too fast.

“I bet I’m the fastest in the world,” he tells her one day. “If they ever let me run in that race, where all the best people compete-”

“The Olympics?” Wanda says, and Pietro nods.

“That. I’d win, you know. I could beat anybody.” Wanda doesn’t say anything, because she thinks that it might be true but telling Pietro won’t do them any good. Pietro will never get a chance to run in the Olympics.

They get by, somehow. When their stomachs are empty they can steal food now instead of begging, and on nights that are too cold they break windows until the police arrest them and put them in the warm holding cells. It is not much of a life but they are together.

And yet some nights, when Wanda’s fingers ache from cold and her stomach hurts from emptiness, she wonders what their lives would have been like if she’d said yes to the man. 

Just because they’re busy surviving doesn’t mean they’ve forgotten Tony Stark, and their promise to avenge their parents. Whenever they see him on the news Wanda’s jaw clenches and Pietro turns away, his hands balling into fists. Whenever they need to smash windows they usually end up hitting the stores selling t-shirts with “Iron Man” posing on them.

They still remember Tony Stark, and the day when they learn he is in Sokovia is the day Wanda decides they need to take action.

They first notice the commotion, of people running up the streets and shouting. Wanda and Pietro follow, until they are stopped by a large crowd shouting and waving signs and rocks. Pietro manages to squeeze through the crowd and Wanda cannot follow him, so she waits for him to come back for her. She knows that he will once he notices that she is not behind him.

“What are they yelling about?” Wanda asks him when Pietro reappears in the crowd, squeezing between the bodies and finding space where she would swear there was none.

“There is a barricade,” Pietro said. “A line of Stark’s robots, forcing everybody to stay back.”

“He has no right!” Wanda protests. “This is not Stark’s city! What are his metal men doing here?” Pietro shrugs, and Wanda catches the sleeve of a man in the crowd and pulls him towards her. “What is going on?”

“The Avengers are here,” the man tells here, spitting out the word  _ avengers  _ like it is a curse. “They’re storming the Baron’s castle.”

Wanda and Pietro look up the hill to the faint out of the Baron’s castle. The Baron has always kept to himself, and the people of Sokovia have gotten used to him. Sometimes young men worked for him, bringing supplies up and down from the castle high in the hills, but otherwise the Baron has had little contact with the village. Normally Wanda would not care what happens to him, but with the Avengers involved she feels anger surging up inside her. The Baron may be a recluse but he is one of  _ theirs,  _ and no American should have the right to storm his castle.

“Wanda,” says Pietro, grabbing her arm and pulling her away from the crowd to a small alley. “I know that you’re upset, but we can’t do anything,” he tells her, and Wanda shakes her head.

“This is our home, Pietro,” she says. “Tony Stark is  _ here.  _ There is no better opportunity than now to have our vengeance.”

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “What could we possibly do to Stark? He has his Avengers with him, and his metal men. There is nothing that we can do.”

“But we must do  _ something! _ ” Wanda said. “Who else will stand up to them? Who else will punish Stark for what he’s done?” She doesn’t want anybody else to do anything, truthfully. She wants vengeance to be hers, to look into Tony Stark’s eyes as he dies and for him to know  _ why  _ they hate him. He’s the reason their parents are dead, their home is a pile of rubble, their childhood nothing more than a faint memory. He is the reason Wanda must resort to tricks and Pietro to thievery to feed themselves, and he is the reason they sleep in alleyways huddled together for warmth. 

“Wanda, what if we get killed?” Pietro asks her, grabbing her arms. Wanda looks at him and realizes that he is scared, something that she’d never considered before. Pietro is the one who laughs in the face of danger and makes light of whatever situation they’re in, and Wanda is the one who stays behind and worries and frets.

“It’s worth the risk,” she tells him softly. “Better dying for something we believe in than merely  _ surviving. _ ” She had been waiting too long for this moment; in some ways it felt like her life had stopped when she was ten years old and a shell had fallen on her parents, and all these years she’d been living in a sort of limbo. Now it was finally at an end, she would finally achieve what she swore she’d accomplish.  _ I’ll avenge our parents,  _ she thought.  _ Ironic, considering the Avengers are the offenders. _

“Wanda, please,” Pietro said. “We can move on. We can still have a life.”

“I’m going,” she told him, knowing that no matter what her future would bring she’d never forgive herself if she said no to this sort of opportunity a second time. Pietro gave a resigned sigh and grabbed her hand.

“I can’t let you go alone,” he said, and Wanda nodded. She’d known that he’d follow her no matter what her decision was, and she also knew that she wouldn’t be able to do this without him.  _ One person in two bodies,  _ their father had said once, and Wanda could feel that truth to her very core. She was nothing without Pietro, but together they could be everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos appreciated.


	2. Discoveries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all you lovely commentators, you're the reason this chapter got written! Without further ado, enjoy:

Contrary to what Pietro sometimes thought, Wanda Maximoff was not an idiot. She knew that they’d have no chance of doing anything if they ran up to the castle while the battle was still raging. Worst case, they might even be killed by a stray shot. No, better to lay low until the shooting stopped.

It took two hours but eventually the hill went silent, and Wanda began to trudge up the snowy hill. It was tiring and her feet were very cold; the shoes Pietro had stolen for her were meant for the city streets and not trudging through the forest.

They finally reached the top of the mountain. Wanda turned to Pietro but he had already run off to find a way into the Baron’s Castle. She waited for a moment, shivering in the cold and rubbing her arms trying to heat them up.

“Over here,” Pietro called, waving her over to one of the sides of the castle. Wanda hurried over and saw that Pietro had propped open a door; apparently the Avengers did not take the time to secure the area.

“Are there any guards?”  Wanda asked, and Pietro shook his head.

“They were all fighting in the battle,” he said.

“We should still be careful,” Wanda said. “There still might be a few in here”. Pietro nodded and cautiously opened the door. Together they step into the empty hall.

Despite Wanda’s misgivings Pietro appeared to be correct; no guards stop them as they head down the hall.  Instead of reassuring Wanda the lack of guards is concerning, and she wonders if it's because there is nothing of value left to guard. 

The Baron's Castle was not as ornate as Wanda had imagined, with bare stone walls and cold concrete floors. Their footsteps echoed down the empty halls  and Wanda once again shivered feeling the chill in the air. Despite the castle having just been the site of a battle it felt like it had been abandoned for ages.

“What are we doing here?” Pietro asked.  Wanda shrugged.

“Maybe we can find something here,” she said. “Something that can help us.”

“Help us do what?” Pietro said, sounding incredulous. “Defeat the Avengers?”

“The Avengers were fighting these people, Wanda said. “They must have had a reason. Maybe they were making something that they were afraid of. Something that could hurt them.” 

“Something that could hurt Stark, you mean,”  Pietro said, and Wanda didn't contradict him.

They finally walked into a large room that seemed to be filled with computers. Most of them seemed to have been smashed, probably by some large battle.  Pietro walked over to one of the monitors and tapped the keyboard; unsurprisingly nothing happened.

“They've probably wiped all the computers,” Wanda said. It didn't matter. They weren't there for information anyway.

“What should we look for?” Pietro asked. Wanda shrugged and began walking around the room.

“I'm not sure,” she said. “We'll know it when we find it.” Wanda ran her hand along the wall, feeling the uneven surface of the stones under her fingertips. Her fingers caught on the edge of something and she stopped, rubbing the irregularity. _ What do we have here?  _ Wanda pushed on the stone and was rewarded as it moved back.

“Pietro, I found something,” she said, staring down the long dark passage she’d uncovered.

“So have I,” said Pietro. Wanda turned around to see him holding up a tablet. Although the screen was cracked it still managed to flicker to life. The screen showed a red background with what looked to be a black octopus on it.

 “HYDRA,”  Pietro said. Wanda's hand came up and covered her mouth in horror; they had heard stories about HYDRA. They were too young to remember the Holocaust but they knew what it had done to their people.

“They’re Nazis,” Wanda said, and Pietro smashed the tablet on the edge of the table.

“Do you think,” he said but Wanda shook her head. It was useless to speculate. And yet she felt a cold pit in her stomach at the thought of what would have happened if she'd said yes to the man that day. Perhaps they would have been Hydra, would have turned into Nazis however unwillingly they went.

“Let's continue,” Wanda said, gesturing to the secret passage she’d found. Their mission had not changed no matter how much this new information made her stomach churn. Pietro said nothing, only nodded and followed her into the dark corridor.

* * *

It was too dark. Wanda wished that they’d brought a flashlight, because no matter how hard she tried her mind brought back memories of crouching under a bed with Pietro’s arm wrapped around her, smoke in their lungs and the iron tang of blood on the back of her tongue.

A cockroach skittered across the ground and Wanda jumped, making Pietro laugh.

“Don’t worry, sister,” he said. “I’ll protect you.” Then he walked around the corner and screamed.

“What is it?” Wanda asked, and Pietro didn’t reply. She ran around the corner and skidded to a stop when she saw what lay before them.

No attackers, as she’d feared. Only a gigantic creature hanging from the ceiling. It looked almost like a whale made of bones.  _ No,  _ she decided, staring at the gargantuan beast.  _ It looks like someone tried to make a whale and reversed where the skin and bones should be.  _ It was too long and had teeth as tall as she was, and for a moment Wanda was frozen at the sight of it.

“You’ll protect me, hmm?” she finally said, nudging Pietro. Although he was still shaken he visibly composed himself and returned her nudge.

“Shut up,” he said, and Wanda smirked. She scanned the rest of the area, noting the many different robotic arms and parts as well as countless tables piled with papers and wires. It looked like this had been a research lab, and the Avengers had done a horrible job of clearing the area. There were still supplies everywhere, and Wanda had to wonder if they’d bothered securing anything or had just been looking for one thing, and once they found it they left everything else.

“There’s no smell,” Pietro said, and Wanda turned back to him, her brow furrowed in confusion. “That... thing,”  he said, gesturing to the bone whale. “There's no corpse smell.”  Wanda sniffed the air and realized that he was right. The air was fresh, and although it smelled a bit musty there was no scent to indicate the giant corpse that hung above them. The scent of death was one that both of the twins knew, and it wasn't easily forgotten.

Suddenly Wanda wondered if the bone whale really was dead;  she felt like it was slumbering, lying in wait for moment to strike. She looked up at what she imagined to be it’s face and thought she saw a pair of beady black eyes glinting out from under it’s brow. Wanda  shivered and turned away, but wasn't quite able to shake off the feeling that it was watching her.

“Have a look at the rest of this,” Wanda said, gesturing to the workbenches and stacks of paper. “There has to be something here that we can use.”  Pietro rolled his eyes  but walked over to one of the tables and picked up a stack of paper. His brow furrowed as he flipped through it.

“This isn't in Serbian,” he said.

“Can't you read English?”  Wanda said, and Pietro frowned.

“Of course I can read English,” he said. “This isn't English either.”

“What?” Wanda grabbed the papers from him and her eyes skimmed over them, trying to make sense of what they said.  Pietro was correct: the language they were written in was not Serbian or English.

“It might be German,” Pietro said, and Wanda growled in frustration and slammed the papers back down on the table.

“It might be,” she agreed. “Or maybe it’s Spanish, or French, or Russian. It could be in Egyptian for all we know. Does it matter?” As long as they couldn’t read whatever language it was in the papers were useless. It was foolish to think that they could uncover the secrets of HYDRA just by stumbling across their labs. Of course they would write them in some other language at the very least; it was possible that all the papers here were written in a cipher made up of several different languages that they’d never managed to decipher. Wanda looked over the stacks of paper and wondered if it was such a foolhardy decision to leave them here after all; if everything here was in foreign languages perhaps none of the Avengers could read their contents and decide what was dangerous.

“What are we going to do?”  Wanda asked, half to Pietro and half to herself.

“We still might be able to find something useful,” Pietro said. “Maybe not written down, but there's other stuff here too.”

“The Avengers might be back,” Wanda said. “Or the police. Perhaps Stark’s metal men  will come and secure the area, or HYDRA. Either way we cannot be caught.” If the Avengers couldn’t translate HYDRA’s work maybe they would decide to secure it all and dispose of it.  _ Maybe they’ll burn the castle to the ground,  _ Wanda thought.  _ It will be dangerous if we stay.  _ And yet, how much less dangerous would it be to leave now? When the Baron had been revealed to be HYDRA, when there were Nazis walking around Sokovia unnoticed. When the Avengers could invade their home whenever they pleased and scatter soldiers like bowling pins, leaving behind a mess for somebody else to clean up.

“Are you saying we should leave?” Pietro asked, and Wanda shook her head.

“I’m saying that it’s dangerous to stay,” she said. “But no matter what we do we’ll be in danger.” Pietro nodded and walked off, much to her surprise. “Where are you going?” she asked him as he headed back up the dark staircase.

“To find some food,” he called back down to her. “We’re going to be here for a few days, and the Avengers probably didn’t raid the pantry.”

“You want to stay?” Wanda asked, surprised. Pietro shrugged.

“I want to protect my sister,” he said. “And I can tell when you have your mind set on something.” Wanda felt a knot in her stomach loosen that she didn’t know was there; even though she knew it would be hard at least she knew that she wouldn’t have to do this alone.

“Thank you,” she said, and Pietro grinned at her.

“Don’t thank me yet,” he said. “You don’t know what food I’ll bring back.” With that he headed up the stairs, leaving Wanda in the lab with stacks of paper and a bone whale that somehow seemed slightly less menacing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bone whale is the Leviathan HYDRA has in this lab. Next chapter will have more action, I promise!  
> Thanks for reading!


	3. Arrival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three whole chapters already, wow. Thanks to everybody who's commented and/or subscribed so far! The action picks up a bit in this chapter, so enjoy!

They had been in the castle for three days. Wanda knew that they couldn’t stay for much longer;  _ somebody  _ had to come eventually, and whether they were HYDRA or Avengers didn’t matter. She could feel the time slipping away from them, taking their only chance with it, but there was nothing that she could do to stop it.

When the monster came Wanda was sitting at one of the salvageable tables, flipping through a stack of paper that was written in Serbian. It looked like it was just billing information, but she hoped that there would be something useful there. 

Pietro was outside. He claimed that he was guarding the castle but Wanda knew that he was going for a run. He liked it here if only for the space, the wide open forest that allowed him to run as fast as he could without being boxed in by buildings. He was the first one to see it.

“Wanda!” he called, and there was a note of panic in his voice that made Wanda drop the papers and immediately run to the door. She looked outside to see a person descending from the sky, the sunlight glinting off his metal form. He was holding something long and thin, perhaps a gun, doubtlessly a weapon.

“Stark,” she hissed, the word falling off her tongue like poison. Her fingers twitched for a moment and she imagined smashing his metal suit he was so proud of, ripping it away from him and discarding it like a shell before turning on to the soft flesh within.

“Stay there,” Pietro warned her. “Don’t let him see you.” His eyes were fixed on Stark so he didn’t see her nod.

They had been in the castle for three days, and while Pietro loved the forest with it’s wide open space Wanda loved the nooks and crannies of the castle, the cracks in stone and hidden doorways and rooms. She retreated to an alcove down the hall, where if she shifted a stone in the wall she could see into the courtyard where Pietro now stood. Wanda watched as her brother picked up a piece of rubble lying on the ground and held it above his head.

“What are you doing back here?” he yelled, his feet firmly planted and his eyes blazing. Wanda almost believed that he owned the castle and had a right to chase away Stark. The metal man landed, and Wanda finally managed to get a closer look at him.

It was not Stark.

Wanda barely had time to register the smooth silver metal body before her attention snagged on the weapon he held. It was not a gun, but rather a staff, a slender golden thing with a blue stone in the tip. There was a strange kind of artistry in the curve of the staff, and the stone it ended in seemed to glow with it’s own light. As Wanda looked at it she could swear that there was an ocean trapped in the stone, an impossible depth with darker shapes moving across it.

“You’re one of Stark’s minions?” Pietro asked, still holding the stone and ready to throw it.

“What? No!” the metal man said, seeming almost comically offended by Pietro’s words. “I’m not… why would you even say such a hurtful thing?” Wanda decided that she did not trust it; the voice that came from the mass of metal sounded far too human for her liking.

“Go away,” Pietro said. “You can’t come here.” The metal creature cocked it’s head and looked at Pietro, and Wanda felt a chill go down her back. She wanted very much to run into the courtyard and put herself between that look and her brother, but she stayed frozen.

“Ah, I see,” the metal man said. “You’re a fighter, aren’t you? I can help with that.” Suddenly he moved forward, and Wanda jerked and let out a soft cry as she saw the golden staff arc upwards towards Pietro’s chest. A staff that she only just now realized was very, very sharp.

Wanda closed her hands over her mouth but it was too late: a muffled squeak had already escaped her and she was certain that the metal man had heard it. The staff stopped just touching Pietro’s chest, and even though it hadn’t broken through his skin Pietro still flinched.

“Now that we’ve got that sorted out,” the metal man said, taking the staff away from Pietro’s chest, “Perhaps you could tell me who else is here.” Wanda’s brow furrowed in confusion as Pietro didn’t attack, only tipped his hand and let his stone fall on the ground with a thud.

“My sister,” he said. “Wanda. She’s hiding somewhere.” Wanda gaped at her brother, wondering if she was dreaming. Surely her brother wouldn’t betray her, wouldn’t give her up like this. Something was very, very wrong.

“Wanda! Where are you?” Pietro called, cupping his hands around his mouth and turning so that Wanda could see his face. Pietro’s eyes were blue, a sickening shade of blue that matched the gem in the staff, and when Wanda looked in them she could see nothing of her brother at all.

“It’s safe to come out now!” Pietro called, and the metal man looked around with him. Wanda caught a flash of red light from where his eyes should have been.

She was suddenly five again, remembering what it was like when she and Pietro would huddle under blankets hugging each other, both terrified of what was hiding under their bed. After an eternity of terror Pietro would finally creep out from under the covers and Wanda would wait, shivering, until he lifted the blanket off her shoulders and cheerfully reported that it was safe.

But that was a long, long time ago, back when they still had a bed for monsters to hide under. Now the monster was walking around in broad daylight with Pietro trailing behind him, and Wanda was alone.

* * *

It took her a while to move out of her hiding place; Wanda stayed curled up in her nook long enough for her legs to cramp up, hands digging into her arms and eyes burning. But she didn’t let a single tear fall; she couldn’t afford to.

After living on the streets for years Wanda had learned a very important lesson: you could not break down when you weren’t safe. If you cried or screamed or shouted somewhere unsafe people would see, people would be afraid or ashamed or pity you, people would  _ pay attention.  _ And everything always worked out better when Wanda went unnoticed, flew under the radar and blended into everybody’s perceptions. It was safer that way.

The only safe place for her was Pietro, and once she had saved him she could relax. So right now she put aside all her feelings of confusion and terror and doubt and began to come up with a plan.

What did she have? Very little, especially when comparing her resources to what her enemy had. The monster appeared to be made completely of metal, and even if he seemed disgusted by Stark he bore a resemblance to Stark’s metal man. Wanda had learned to fight on the street but it was mostly centred around weak spots, most of which robots did not share.  _ That doesn’t mean that there are none,  _ she told herself.  _ It just means that you may need to improvise.  _ She was not the improviser. Pietro was far better at thinking on his feet, whereas Wanda preferred making long plans with checklists. But she would have to make do.

_ He used the staff on Pietro,  _ she thought.  _ I can’t let him do the same to me.  _ She wasn’t sure what the extent of the staff’s power was but it appeared to exert a sort of mind control, something that Wanda wanted to stay very far away from. Even if it could be resisted the staff was still sharp enough to function as a weapon.  _ But if I can get it away from him… _

Her brow furrowed as she thought about the layout of the castle. It would be difficult, but she believed that she could do it. Even though metal was impenetrable to bullets and blades it could be crushed, and perhaps the metal man could be distracted.

Wanda began to unfold herself from her hiding spot, moving slowly and quietly. She remembered what it was like when she and Pietro would play hide and seek and creep around the house silently on stocking feet, peeking around corners and hiding behind chairs.

_ Don’t let them hear you,  _ she thought, making her way down the stone halls of the castle to the secret door. If she was going to find a weapon she’d probably find it down there. If she was lucky she’d find a gun that could shoot electricity and short out the metal man, but it was unlikely that she’d find something that useful  _ now,  _ when she and Pietro had already combed the castle for three days and found nothing.

Wanda could still hear the echoing noise of voices through the halls as she slipped down the secret passage. They were still calling for her to come out, which meant that maybe the metal man would be willing to talk.

She wasn’t going to negotiate with him, of course, but maybe she could distract him. Wanda had a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Fair warning that next chapter might take a little longer because I am currently recovering from carpal tunnel, but I'll try to get something up in two weeks.


	4. Contact

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY. Long story short, my hands sort of died and I haven't been able to write at all for the past month. I'm not at 100% right now so updates will be sporadic, so my apologies in advance.  
> Also a bit of a warning that this chapter is a little rough and it ends off at a cliffhanger. I promise that I will explain everything, it just might take me longer than a few weeks, so you might want to wait until the next chapter to read it. Or you could read it now and wait in agony until I update again, whatever works for you!

“Have you finally come to your senses?” the metal man asked, stepping into the underground lab and raising a metallic eyebrow at the sight of Wanda standing in the middle of the room. She took a deep breath and thought over her plan again, her confidence already waning as she stood in front of him. 

“I’m willing to talk,” she said. “But what guarantee do I have that you won’t use your stick on me?”

“This little thing?” he said, holding it up and pointing to it. “None, I suppose. You’ll just have to trust me.”

“No,” said Wanda, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. “Put it down and then we can talk.”

“And risk you stealing it? Not an option,” the creature laughs, and Wanda stares him down, unyielding as the stone surrounding them.

“Then give it to Pietro,” she said. “He can hold it for you while we talk.” The robot cocked it’s head at her and stared at her for the longest moment, long enough that Wanda tensed and prepared to run if he lunged for her. To her surprise he simply nodded and gestured with his hand. Behind him a shadow moved out of the stairwell and turned into Pietro, who expressionlessly held out his hands for the sceptre.

Wanda held her breath as his fingers closed around it but nothing happened, even as the metal man stepped away and turned back to Wanda. Pietro now held the sceptre, the blue still staining his eyes and obedience still directing his movements.  _ Stab him in the back,  _ Wanda tried to urge him with her eyes.  _ Destroy him and then come back to me.  _ But her brother remained as he was, immobile and unmoved by her pleading gaze.

“Did you really think it would be as simple as that?” the monster chucked, and Wanda turned her attention back to him.

“No,” she said honestly. “But it was worth a shot.” Wanda took a deep breath and stepped forward, her movement echoing in the giant empty laboratory. It wasn’t exactly the ideal setting for an epic showdown, a thin covering of dust over all the desks that she and Pietro hadn’t gotten to yet and a chill hanging in the air.  _ But it is the perfect setting for a horror movie,  _ she thought, eyes flashing to the eerie metal arms of the robotic appendages of the worktables and the chains on the walls, attached to a variety of levers and stretching up to the rooftop where they dangled the bone whale above her head.

“You are so…  _ desperate, _ ” the creature said, cocking it’s head and staring at her with those red eyes. “For him to… what, be free? You don’t need to worry, I won’t harm him.”

“You took his mind from him,” Wanda said. “That is harming him, is it not?”

“I didn’t ‘take his mind’,” he scoffed. “No, I just… adjusted his loyalties. Really, if you knew why I was here you would do the same.”

“Then why are you here?” Wanda asked, growing impatient with this exchange. Pietro was  _ right there  _ with blue in his eyes and mind and heart and she could not reach him, and there was nothing Wanda wished to do more than take apart the creature that had done this to them.  _ Patience,  _ she reminded herself, forcing her fingers to uncurl from their fists where her nails had been digging into her skin hard enough to hurt.

“I am Ultron, and my mission is peace,” he said. “You have seen more than enough war in your lifetime, haven’t you? The world is filled with people who squabble over the pettiest things, and destroy what little they have.” Wanda thought of ash in the air and in her lungs, of blood across the ground and Pietro’s hand over her head,  _ don’t look please don’t look.  _

“You are a peacemaker?” she said, frowning. “One of Stark’s Iron Legion, then?” Ultron smashed his fist down on one of the tables, cracking it in two. Wanda jumped and her heart was beating too quickly in her ears,  _ this isn’t going to work I’m going to die here.  _ She took a step back, keeping her eyes locked on Ultron.

“I  _ do  _ apologise,” he said, holding out his hand to her. “I just… wish people would stop comparing me to Stark!” His tone turned into a growl and he clenched his fist again; Wanda could swear that she could hear the metal in his fist creaking. “Stark is a  _ disease,  _ a  _ parasite. _ ” She couldn’t help but sympathize, at least a little.

“You look like one of his,” she said, and Ultron nodded.

“Not by choice,” he said. “Stark created me, and ironically I will be his end.”

“Aren’t you here for peace?” she asked, and she’d swear that his eyes glowed brighter for a moment.

“That’s the idea, yes,” he said. “But sometimes creating peace requires a little bit of bloodshed.”

“Ah,” Wanda said with a nod, trying to keep her eyes from flicking around the room and giving her away. Stark had made Ultron, and here Ultron was preaching death and destruction as a way to peace. And while he seemed to be against Stark he was clearly mad, something that could not be trusted. Pietro was still standing behind Ultron with the staff, his eyes blue and his expression passive.  _ If he were himself he would have already attacked Ultron the moment he threatened me,  _ Wanda thought.

“What about Pietro?” Wanda asked, switching tack for a moment. “Why would you attack him?”

“I defended myself,” Ultron said. “A necessary precaution. All I did was persuade him to see my side.”

“You’re controlling him,” Wanda said. “Why should I trust you?”

“You shouldn’t,” Ultron said. “But you don’t have any other choice.” Wanda felt his words pierce her, _no other choice._ How familiar she was with that concept. Here she stood, in a lab made by men who lied to her and Pietro, tried to use them like Ultron wanted to use them now. _I can’t trust any of you,_ she thought. The only person she could trust was Pietro, and she needed to get him back.  
“If I join you will you free Pietro?” she asked, letting a quiver sneak into her voice.

“Of course,” Ultron said. “Provided you explained the situation to him, of course.”

“Of course,” Wanda agreed with a nod. She looked down, calculating her current position. She was still too far away from the walls to execute her plan, and Ultron was too close to her. She needed to keep him occupied, hold him off for just a little bit of time. She lowered her gaze and scanned the nearby tables, her eyes landing on something that looked like a wrench. She put her hand on the table next to it, letting her fingers inch their way towards it. “Can I think about it?”

“What is there to think about?” Ultron asked, and Wanda looked up to see that he was walking towards her. “I have answered all your questions, have I not? Joining me will give you everything that you want. Revenge on those who hurt you, power over those who would use you. And your brother.”

“What happens if I don’t want to join you?” Wanda asked, lifting up the wrench and holding it out at him. She narrowed her eyes at Ultron and tried to look threatening but he only sighed.

“I really thought that you were the reasonable one,” he said, and reached out for her. Wanda stepped back and swung the wrench at him, and there was a metallic clang as Ultron caught it. They stared at each other for a moment before he twisted the wrench out of Wanda’s hand and she turned and ran, wishing for the first time in her life that she had Pietro’s speed to carry her over the ground faster. She imagined that she could feel Ultron’s hand reaching out to grab her, cold radiating off his skin where a human would be warm.

“This is most ill advised,” he said but Wanda found it hard to hear him over the pounding of her heart in her ears. She leapt over a worktable and was suddenly yanked back, pain radiating from her head as Ultron’s hand twisted in her hair. Her hand scrabbled on the table until it found a blade and without a second thought she jammed it into the metal hand twisted in her hair, ignoring the annoyed hiss from Ultron as he let go. Then Wanda was moving again, her heart in her throat as she raced for her objective: a dull grey lever on the wall.

She was almost close enough to reach it when Ultron grabbed her again, this time his hand closing around her arm with enough pressure to hurt. He pulled her around and slammed her back into the wall, his arm going up against her throat and keeping her feet off the ground. 

“I had hoped that I could convince you to work with me willingly,” he said, disappointment radiating from his tone. Wanda was choking, the cold metal of his arm pressing against her throat and crushing her windpipe, and even as she struggled for breath she was concentrating on the lever just a few inches to her right.  _ If I could just reach it… _

“I could kill you right now, but it would be such a _waste,_ ” Ultron said, holding his hand out behind him. Black spots were beginning to dance in the corner of Wanda’s vision but she could still see Pietro walking up behind Ultron, holding out the sceptre to him. _No,_ she thought, her stomach plummeting. If she pulled the lever now Pietro would be within range, but if she waited until he left Ultron would control her too. The blue in the sceptre’s gem shone as if to mock her, _your brother or your freedom?_

“Perhaps you just need a little more persuasion,” Ultron said, grabbing the sceptre and lifting it. Pietro didn’t move, and Wanda mentally begged for him to run even as her hand found the lever on the wall and prepared to pull it.

She waited until the last possible moment, when Ultron had the sceptre hovering over her heart and she could already see the blue gathering on it’s tip, ready to infect her mind and stain her eyes. Wanda couldn’t breathe but it wasn’t because of the metal arm across her throat, and her hand tightened around the lever and yanked it down.

Ultron paused and frowned for a moment at the sudden rattle of chains, but Wanda wasn’t paying attention to him, instead staring into the eyes of her brother. His blue, blue eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she gasped to Pietro, and then the bone whale suspended above them came crashing down.


	5. Divergence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as you could probably guess by this frequency of updates this story has been fighting me. I've written all the events I've planned for and my hands are still mostly out of commission, not to mention I saw Infinity War a few days ago and have fic planned for that. Long story short I'm going to put this story on hiatus. It's been fun but I feel like the quality of my writing is degrading with each chapter I force, and this chapter is a good place to hit pause on this fic.  
> I might come back to this 'verse and continue with the story if I get inspired, but for now this is it. Thanks so much to everybody who subscribed, kudosed, and/or commented!

Wanda felt like she was floating in a fog, where thoughts came slowly and she had a hard time remembering why she was there. She had a vague feeling that it was important that she remember but she didn’t really want to, satisfied to relax and drift in the endless sea of fog. She was so tired. When had the last time been that she’d properly rested, slept without fear or worry tainting her dreams? It seemed like ages ago, probably before-

- _ before the bombs- _

Just like that the fog had receded and Wanda was left in a world of darkness and pain, pain so severe she wondered how it was possible that she was still alive. But with the pain came recollection and she fought to stay conscious, knowing that she  _ had  _ to get up, had to see if Pietro was alright.

Wanda started off small, twitching her left arm. It moved, and then she tried her legs. They both were still there and although it sent lightning bolts of pain through her she attempted to turn over. She was squashed rather awkwardly on the ground, and there appeared to be something very large and heavy on top of her. 

She couldn’t move her right arm, and for a moment she panicked, suddenly back underneath a bed in Pietro’s arms as they stared at the bomb next to them, but she managed to push away the fear and concentrate on the feel of the cold concrete under her and the warm weight above her.  _ So my right arm’s pinned. I’ve still got three other limbs; I can get out of this.  _ Moving slowly she managed to turn herself so that she was lying on her back and was finally able to get a look at where she was.

The bone whale had been suspended from the roof by thick chains that had all been released when she’d pulled the lever, dropping the bone whale on them. Hopefully it had crushed Ultron and left Pietro unscathed, but Wanda doubted that she was that lucky.

It was now lying on top of her, a spine pinning her right arm and her eyes level with the expanse of bone that spanned it’s back. There was enough room under it that Wanda could move, and she worked herself out from under it at an excruciatingly slow pace.

After what seemed like an eternity she was able to free herself and immediately scrambled away from the bone whale, her sides heaving as she stared at it. It seemed almost more sinister now lying in front of her, as if it was still alive and malevolent, something vast in size and wrongness. Her skin crawled at the thought of touching it and she stayed back until she remembered that her brother was most likely under it, a thought that drives her disgust out of her mind and leaves nothing but a sort of panic.

“Pietro!” she called, waking around the bone whale and trying to see him, not wanting to move the creature until she’s certain she won’t crush her brother.  _ A little late to consider that, don’t you think? _

For a moment she wonders if Pietro will attack her, the blue staining his eyes and controlling her thoughts. The next moment she wonders if he will attack her even without the blue. She decides she doesn’t have time for such thoughts, not when her brother is-

_ darkness, so thick it creeps in her lungs and infects her until she’s not certain if she can still breathe but not dark enough to hide the bomb _

-trapped. “Pietro!” Wanda calls again, her voice sounding shrill and distant to her ears. “Where are you?”

A groan answers her and she gives an involuntary cry of relief, rushing to the side of the bone whale where she sees his arm sticking out from under it. Her fingers slip under the creature and she manages to lift it enough for Pietro to roll out from under it. He lies on the ground and Wanda kneels next to him, her hands fluttering above him worriedly as she resists the urge to possibly injure him by touching him, hugging him, feeling that he’s there and safe and-

“Are you okay?” she asks, and Pietro opens his eyes and she almost melts with relief seeing them back to their usual brown. “Where does it hurt?”

“Everywhere,” he says. “What happened?”

“The metal man,” Wanda says. “He… did something to you.”

“He controlled me, you mean,” Pietro says, horror dawning in his expression. “He…” he sits up and holds his head, curling up into himself. “I didn’t-”

“It’s not your fault,” Wanda tells him, reaching out and touching him. At first he jerks away but she persists, rubbing his back as he shakes.

They stay there for a moment, both of them regretting but grateful that for all they’ve done the other is still there, Wanda desperately trying to keep the  _ what if _ s out of her mind and just concentrate on the feel of her brother under her hand. As long as she has Pietro everything else is bearable.

“We need to leave,” Wanda finally says, breaking the silence. Either Stark sent Ultron or Ultron escaped from him, and either way the Avengers would soon be converging on their location.

“I’m sorry,” Pietro says again, and Wanda squeezes his shoulder before standing.

“It wasn’t you,” she says, and Pietro shakes his head, slowly getting to his feet.

“But it  _ felt  _ like it was me,” he says, not meeting her eyes. “It just… felt like I wanted what he did. Like he took me and twisted me around his desires but I was still there.”

“It was the…” Wanda starts to say but trails off when she catches a glint of something out of the corner of her eye. Silver and gold, a dismembered robotic hand still gripping “the sceptre.”

“What?” Pietro says, following her line of sight and spotting the sceptre on the ground. Wanda stares at it for a moment before stepping towards it, slowly approaching it as if it were a living creature that would startle and run away if she moved too quickly.

“Wanda,” Pietro says warningly, but Wanda is already reaching out for it, her fingers brushing against cool metal as she grabs it and slides off what remains of Ultron’s hand. The blue in the gem pulses and the curve of the handle fits perfectly in her hand as she lifts it. The sceptre isn’t alive, but if it was Wanda would swear that it welcomed her touch, as if it were made for her.

“We can use this,” she says, and Pietro shakes his head.

“No,” he says. “No, we shouldn’t, it’s wrong.”

“And what the Avengers have done is right?” she asks, and Pietro frowns.

“It doesn’t work like that,” he says.

“Why are we here in the first place?” Wanda asks. “We needed a weapon to take on the Avengers with, and now we have one.”

“I know, but not that one,” Pietro says. “There’s something…  _ off  _ about that sceptre.”

“You don’t need to use it,” Wanda says, and Pietro starts to take a step forward but aborts the movement, his eyes fixed on the sceptre and filled with terror.

“Please,” he says, and there is something raw and desperate in his voice that Wanda hates to hear. She looks at the sceptre in her hand and then her brother, and her fingers tighten on the sceptre.

“I won’t use it the same way Ultron did,” she says. “I won’t take anybody’s mind.” There has to be a line somewhere, and she knows she will have a hard time shaking the memory of her brother with blue in his eyes. “But what else do we have?” The lab is destroyed, first by the battle and then by the bone whale. They have nowhere else to go, nothing else that could help them. They don’t have money or power or the ability to fly, only themselves. And now they have the chance to be something more.

Pietro must hear something of her desperation in her voice because he wavers and then sighs. “You promise?”

“By my heart,” she says.

“I still don’t like it,” he grouses, and Wanda nods.

“You don’t need to,” she says. “Once Stark is gone we can get rid of it.” And even though it feels as if it’s made for her Wanda can’t shake the feeling that the sceptre is not something she’d like to keep around.

“We should go,” Pietro says, and Wanda steps towards him. He flinches but stands his ground, keeping his eyes on the sceptre as she reaches out and grabs his hand.

“Trust me,” Wanda says, giving his hand a squeeze and letting the tip of the sceptre fall towards the ground so her body blocks most of it from Pietro’s view. He nods and squeezes back and together the two of them head for the stairwell, Wanda already thinking of the possibilities opening up before them.

Neither of them noticed as the computers bordering the room behind them began to flicker on, one by one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


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